I’m numb on the last day of Giselle rehearsals.
In fact, I’ve been numb since the moment Adrian fucked me against the wall, then left me crying on the floor. Right after he made me the other woman.
His whore.
That was three days ago.
Three days since I found out he has a fiancée. A blonde, beautiful one. A Russian, just like him.
One he shouldn’t have looked away from. I don’t have a low opinion of myself, but even I can tell her type—classy, blonde, and with legs that go for miles—is the one that suits him.
I’ve been going through the motions since that day, but I haven’t been living. All I keep thinking about is a way to stop being that woman. That despicable bitch who’s stealing away an engaged man.
I hate him so much for putting me in this position. Even more than when he lured me under his thumb and made me crave him.
Despite the murkiness of that situation, I was able to let go, to let him invade my world. But this situation is completely different and against every principle I have.
And because of that, I need to break away from him. Knowing Adrian’s domineering character, he won’t end it with me just because I demand it. If I fight, he’ll subdue me and even punish me for it. I have to be smart about this and do something that will make him disgusted enough with me that he’ll leave my life in peace.
But no matter how much I’ve racked my brain these past few days, I haven’t found a way.
I’m glad Adrian left me alone during this period, but knowing he’ll eventually come back makes me restless.
Whenever I walk into my apartment and don’t find him there, a mixture of relief and annoying disappointment hits me.
I wish he’d get bored of me, already, but he implied he’d never leave me that day.
If he’d said those words that morning, I would’ve felt different. Slightly scared but probably excited. However, now, all I feel is bitterness, because even the moments we shared that morning weren’t real.
He has a fucking fiancée.
In my parking garage, I spot Yan in his Mercedes right across from my car. He’s been openly watching me. Sometimes alone, other times with another buff, scowly guard who isn’t Kolya.
I usually ignore him, but today, my nerves are shot. I’m anxious about Giselle’s opening, and the whole thing with Adrian is making me lose sleep, startling awake at any sound, expecting him to show up.
I march to Yan and he gets out of the car before I reach him, standing in an erect position. “Do you need anything, miss?”
“Yes, leave me alone.”
His expression doesn’t change. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Boss’s orders.”
“Tell your boss to go fuck himself.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, but you tell him yourself if you like.”
My hold tightens on my bag as I glare at him. A look that he returns with a neutral one.
“Why is he doing this to me, Yan?”
“Honestly?” He lifts a shoulder. “No one but him knows.”
“You’re his guard.”
“Believe it or not, that doesn’t give me access to his complicated brain.”
I pause at the sarcasm. I always thought Adrian’s guards were as stoic as him, but Yan seems to be different. Despite being calm in my presence, he’s not as solemn-faced as Kolya. Besides, he’s pretty to look at.
“Do you know what he plans to do?” I ask.
“Not really.”
“Is he ever going to let me go?”
He winces. “I don’t know.”
“But he has a fiancée.” My lips tremble around the word. Is it supposed to hurt this much whenever I think of it or say it aloud?
“It’s tradition, miss. He’s supposed to marry into the brotherhood. Kristina Petrov is the daughter of one of the leaders and was handpicked to be Boss’s wife, to bear his heirs, and so on.”
Yan’s tone is nonchalant, meant to make me feel better, but it just manages to dig the knife in deeper. Kristina Petrov is not only the most suitable woman for Adrian, but apparently, she’s the perfect candidate, too.
“Then why is he betraying her with me?”
“He’s not.”
“He obviously is.”
He pauses. “It’s somewhat normal to have…”
“Mistresses?” I bite out, finishing for him.
He gives a hesitant nod.
“I’m nobody’s mistress,” I mutter from between gritted teeth. “If I have to fight Adrian tooth and nail to not be one, I will.”
“Please don’t.” He retrieves a pack of cigarettes. “May I?”
“Sure, I’m used to the smell.” I pause. “What did you mean by what you just said?”
He lights a cigarette and takes a long drag, then releases it through his nostrils. “If you use violence against him, you’ll be met with violence. I don’t have to tell you who will win in that case.”
“Do you suggest I stay silent?”
“I never said that. Just…be smart about it, miss. That’s the only way you can get anything from him. Boss is a practical man, and while he might seem robotic at times, he weighs everything and will always choose logic above anything else.”
I mull his words over in my head, finding them true. Going at Adrian full force would just blow up in my face.
“Thank you,” I say. At least Yan isn’t as desensitized as his boss.
He raises both hands in the air. “I said nothing. Don’t get me in trouble.”
I smile a little before getting in my car, and when I head out, Yan follows close behind me in his Mercedes. After the talk we just had, I don’t feel as stifled. He’s just doing what he was ordered to do.
At rehearsal, I go through the final motions and preparations. Costume designers and makeup artists are all gathered to make sure there are no loose ends.
Philippe tells me to do one last demonstration with Ryan because he wants to see his grasp of the emotions.
We do a few routines in which Philippe criticizes his laziness. Ryan says he had a cramp and will take care of it with the company’s physician.
The staff buzz around the empty theater and the other dancers stand behind the curtains, watching us. Stephanie, Philippe, and a few of their assistants are on stage as we’re about to perform the routine one final time.
I wipe the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. I overworked my ankles today and I will pay a visit to Dr. Kim later.
The scene is a solo between me and Albrecht, played by Ryan. It’s when I choose to save his life even after he doomed me to death. He didn’t do it on purpose, but my life ended as soon as I knew he had a fucking fiancée. A princess.
It’s where love proves what it truly is, a masochistic feeling where you want the best for the one you love despite what they’ve done to you.
Bullshit.
I twirl on pointe for a few seconds, then jump into Ryan’s arms a fraction of a second early. He extends his hands, but he misses by a breath.
It’s a single breath.
Just one.
Time freezes for a moment and everything turns into white noise.
Both of our eyes widen as I land in an unnatural position. Shock ripples through my leg and then a haunting, ugly sound echoes in the air.
Pop.
